


Unfinished Business

by dubpubs



Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2012), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: Apritello, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Future Fic, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Shameless Smut, very shameless, yeah theres some of that in here too yoinks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:29:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23390992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dubpubs/pseuds/dubpubs
Summary: Something's up with April's powers and it's got her down - Donnie is determined to help her feel better. Established Apritello.
Relationships: Donatello/April O'Neil (TMNT)
Comments: 23
Kudos: 58





	Unfinished Business

**Author's Note:**

> So I should say up front, this fic is literally unfinished biz. It was originally the beginning of a longer story I was kinda fiddling around with for a while (whose overall plot is still an amorphous blob I haven’t figured out), which is why it has an ominous intro scene, and some weird stuff happening to April that never gets resolved, and why it gets a little real here and there.. but seeing as I’m a notorious story ditcher who burns out on anything longer than a little baby 2 chapter fic, I really doubt I’m ever going to finish the full beginning to end w/ villain and plot version. Luckily what I have sort of stands well enough on its own, and I figured no one would mind if I posted this weird finished-but-not Apritello story because at its core it’s just really smutty ass smut and fluffy ass fluff. 
> 
> I mean, they bang in this, ya’ll. They bang hard. Someone who reviewed one of my other stories a while back requested more dirty talking Donnie, so I brought him back full force lmao. And I had to go through several versions of dialogue bc I kept going to myself “oh jeez would Donnie ever actually say these things???” and then I thought about it more and came to the conclusion that if April was into it and asked him to, yes, yes he would say those things. Especially if he was in the middle of makin sweet sweet love to his girlfriend. 
> 
> Okay that was my official disclaimer, this story is explicit. I will now proceed to go stick my head in the ground.
> 
> I really, really don’t know what this is supposed to be, I just sort of word vomited everywhere, but if you make it through the whole thing, I hope you enjoy!

Late into the night, a man dressed in all black crouches on a deserted rooftop in the East Village. A glance at the dimmed smart watch on his wrist tells him he’s been in this same spot for hours, but long periods of waiting are all part of the job. And he hasn’t yet given up hope that his time here will pay off. The tip had been solid.

He’d been paid a lot of money to be here. An absurd amount of money, even for someone as experienced as him. Obviously his employer has a strong vested interest in learning more about mutants, and is willing to pay dearly for the intel - well, intel on four of them, in particular. 

_Turtles_ , he’d been told. Human-sized turtles that could speak English, and were inexplicably skilled in wielding traditional Japanese weapons. Armed, giant, talking turtles that were by far connected to more mutant-related activity than any other known mutant group in New York City.

It _sounds_ unbelievable, yes. It was goddamned bizzare just thinking it aloud in his head when he strung it all together like that. When he’d first been debriefed he’d just nodded along, masking his disbelief and shock (disbelief until they’d broken out some blurry, yet very damning photos, then just shock). These were strange times the world lived in, though. And he’s not here to ask questions, he’s here to collect a check, and let other people figure out what to do with the information he gathers.

According to his employer, mutants had been slowly gaining footing in New York over the last 5 or so years, whether the public, the media, law enforcement, or _whoever_ was supposedly in charge chose to acknowledge it or not. While the mysterious creatures remained well hidden, it appeared there were a lot more of them now. And where there were mutants, there was also destruction, alien invasions, horrifying and/or unexplained phenomena and general disturbance of the peace.

He’s not privy to the details, but to the man’s understanding, his employer plans on taking action where the EPF and the government will not. And more importantly, has the resources to make it happen.

He feels his eyelids beginning to droop, all too aware of the stiffness in his joints. But it would not bode well for him to leave empty handed. He jerks his eyes back open.

A half hour later the man perks up at the sight of movement in the shadows, and quickly whips out his binoculars. There, a few rooftops away, he spots one of them. Finally, the information he so painstakingly gathered (through some rather illegal methods) and the days of waiting, searching, and waiting some more have paid off. It’s too dark to tell the color of the mask tied around its eyes, but it’s clear this is one of the four his employer is so keen on knowing more about. There’s no missing the hairless, discolored skin, the hulking hands and feet, or especially the massive _shell_ on its back, a long, wooden staff strapped to it.

Sure, the man had heard about mutants, and has read about them as thoroughly as he possibly could, considering what little information is out there. But looking at a dark, grainy photo of a strange being is one thing. Actually _seeing_ a walking, talking, humanoid turtle in person is another. The man can’t help but gawk at first, feeling some odd combination of stunned, intimidated and fascinated. 

Without warning, a woman in a black jumpsuit gracefully somersaults into view on the same rooftop, the light from a nearby building catching the bright orange color of her hair. She looks to be in her early twenties, or possibly late teens if he had to guess, and she falls into an easy stride next to the much bigger and taller mutant, close enough that their hands brush. He can’t hear what they’re saying, but it’s easy to tell by her body language that she has absolutely zero qualms about being near such an alarming-looking creature.

She matches the description that was provided to him perfectly - one of the mutants’ few human allies. The one with the unexplained telekinetic powers, and considered just as dangerous as the turtles, if not more so. That point had been heavily emphasized. _Do not engage under any circumstances._

The bizarre pair stops walking to scope their surroundings in an efficient, practiced manner, prompting the man to double check that he’s fully shrouded in darkness. Certain there’s no way they could spot him crouched here from so far away, he continues to stare as the redheaded girl suddenly takes the turtle by either side of its enormous hands, leading it around the back of the brick rooftop entrance in a manner that could only be described as playful. The man can’t stop his mouth from falling open in shock when she rises up to her tiptoes to coax the creature down into a rather passionate liplock, her arms winding around its neck almost... lovingly.

His expression skews into one of appalled disgust. He had not been expecting that one, that’s for damn sure.

_What in the hell…?_

The man quickly shakes off the surprise, lowering the binoculars. Carefully removing a high grade camera from his bag, he expertly zooms in and focuses on the turtle and the redhead, both still locked in an embrace that seems to be growing more heated by the second. He snaps one picture, then another.

It’s inconceivable in the worst way, what the man has somehow found himself witnessing. The lean, yet hulking thing dips to seal its mouth on the girl’s neck, runs its monstrous, three fingered hands all over her body, caressing her clothed chest, squeezing her ass, even coming to stroke its finger between her legs. And what’s worse, the girl _lets_ it. She touches it back, kisses it back just as fiercely. A few times he can see what looks like them giggling to each other, as if what they’re doing is _sweet_ , or exciting, or acceptable in any way, shape, or form. 

What, in the everloving _fuck_.

The man switches his Nikon out for a Handycam when the pair breaks apart, moving even further into the shadows. He doubts they could be spotted by anyone who didn't already know they were there. But the camera’s infrared allows the man to very clearly see the redhead unzip her jumpsuit and hurriedly peel it down to just above her knees, revealing the tee shirt and plain pair of black panties underneath. Any arousal the man may have felt at watching her undress is completely ruined by the monster looming just a step away, now removing the wooden staff from its back.

With both eyes blown wide open, the man watches the young redhead proceed to turn toward the wall and bend over, her hands bracing against the decaying bricks. Holy shit. His line of work leads him to witnessing some crazy stuff, yeah, but he hadn’t known he was signing up for _this_ tonight. Horrorstruck, he watches the creature position itself behind her, its deformed hands caressing her hips before one of them disappears between her legs again. The man’s stomach rolls, making him regret the cheesesteak he’d snagged from a corner deli hours earlier. 

No. No fucking way. Surely this girl isn’t about to willingly _allow_ this thing to...

His question is answered when the turtle begins to slowly rut against the girl from behind. From this angle the grotesque shell on its back blocks most of his view of the act itself, but there’s no denying what’s now happening before his very eyes, just a couple of rooftops away. All he can do is stew in his revulsion and numbly keep the camera steady, which continues to record away. 

The night vision lets him see the girl’s face when she looks back over her shoulder. Her lips parted, her eyes smoldering and half lidded. Then she _smiles_ , which prompts the turtle to lean forward, and they share a kiss at the odd angle, never ceasing in their deplorable act.

Somehow the sight of that girl smiling rattles the man more than anything. God, she’s actually _enjoying_ it. Being fucked - more like _defiled_ \- by an animal, one that’s been mutated beyond recognition. Everybody’s got their weird ass kinks, but this was some twisted shit. The freaks taking over this city weren’t exclusively mutants, evidently.

The turtle hunches further over the girl, wrapping its arms around her middle and tugging her flush against its unnatural body as its thrusting grows more insistent. Disgusted as he is by watching them move together, the man can’t bring himself to look away either, his eyes glued to the figures on the screen, green and ghostly-looking from the infrared. The girl throws her head back with what looks like a moan, no noise accompanying the action. 

Jesus. How long is this going to go on? 

_Sick freaks._

After way too long, the movement on the other side of the camera grinds to a halt, the turtle giving a last few hard, stuttering thrusts on long, shaky legs, its face nestled in the girl’s neck as it holds her tight. _Oh fuck no, it’s actually…_ Again, the man’s stomach lurches with a twinge of nausea. Because it’s vile, what this obviously troubled girl is letting this monster do to her. 

Afterwards, the couple just stands there together for a few moments, both of their shoulders heaving. The mutant still has its body curved possessively over the girl’s, its thick forearms locked snugly around her trim waist. Only when it starts nuzzling her neck again does the man lower his camera. He runs a hand over his face, trying to process what he just saw.

When the two eventually leave the rooftop, vanishing into the night, the man stays put. Apparently the girl could actually _sense_ it if he tried to follow, preventing anyone from getting too close to the turtles. The one who held this job before him had learned that lesson the hard way. Two rooftops away had already been pushing it, and it was clear both the mutant and the girl possessed physical conditioning that he could hardly hope to keep up with, at least from the required distance.

No matter... he has what he came for. Well he has something, anyway. A hand finds its way to his camera bag, as if reassuring himself it was still there. 

He can’t help but wonder what his employer’s reaction will be when he presents her with _this_.

-

Tongue peeking out of the corner of his mouth, Donatello gives the screwdriver one last good twist before setting it aside, giving the top of the computer tower an affectionate pat for good measure. 

“That should do it, Doc. You’ve got RAM to spare now - plenty to keep the defense system running glitch-free, for sure. And I upgraded the graphics card, so the security feed should come in nice and smooth.” 

“Fantastic,” Dr. Rockwell says, clapping his hands together. “Just what we need, should one of Don Vizioso’s goons come nosing around here again.” 

“Appreciate you coming out here and upgrading us, Donatello,” Slash remarks from his seat on the couch a ways away, licking a clawed thumb and turning a page in his comic.

“It was really no trouble,” Donnie waves him off with a bright smile. “Always happy to help out friends.”

Instead of adding on his own thanks, Dr. Rockwell brings the conversation back around to Vizioso. “It seems as if that pig-headed fool is growing bolder by the day, the way they’ve been expanding their territory,” he goes on, and Donnie tries not to make a face as the mutant ape picks something out his arm fur and pops it in his mouth. “It’d be in your team’s best interest to remain vigilant as well.”

“Trust me, Leo’s already got the ‘remaining vigilant’ thing well covered,” Donnie leans back in the computer chair, crossing his arms. “April sensed someone following us a few weeks back while we were patrolling, but he escaped before we could figure out who he was working for. Leo’s convinced it was one of Vizioso’s guys, but I’m not so sure...”

“I certainly wouldn’t put it past him to have you all followed.” 

“Nah, the guy was too stealthy to be one of those halfwits. He was quick, too, I mean... it’s not exactly easy to give me and my brothers the slip. Almost gave me pre-Karai Foot Clan vibes.” The turtle chuckles to himself. “Heh, what do you think the odds are of _another_ ancient ninja clan settling down in New York?” Upon hearing his own words, Donnie’s chuckling dies abruptly, his face falling into a half-cringe. “Yeahh, just going to go ahead and…” he thumps his wrapped knuckles against the wooden desk a few times. 

“I had no idea you were so superstitious, Donatello.” Rockwell smirks. 

“I’m not,” Donnie shoots back with a prickly look, “I’ve just learned the hard way about tempting fate.”

“Indeed,” comes the doctor’s condescending-sounding response. “Well. Your brother is right in not counting out the Don just yet. I highly doubt that man has just ‘let go’ of his obsession with mutant-targeting weapons. And you know he’s still out for blood since we destroyed his arsenal years ago.”

“Yeah, well. If that lumbering _thug_ tries anything again, we’ll be ready.” Donatello pounds a fist into his palm for emphasis. He hasn’t forgotten the helpless feeling of being restrained on a moldy hotel bedspread, some worthless gangster ready to cut into him just to “see what made him tick.” The memory still sort of gets his blood boiling.

“Hm. I should hope so.” The mutant ape adjusts the metal helmet on his head, then assumes a midair lotus position just behind Donnie’s chair. “Now, if you’ll be so kind as to show me how to activate the new defense protocols…”

“Ah, can do,” Don nods, his fingers already flying over the keyboard. 

They’d only been at it for 10 minutes when his T-phone starts to chirp with the usual ringtone - Donnie raises a finger to a mid-sentence Rockwell, fishing it out of his belt. “Uh, hold that thought.” A pleased smile comes to the turtle’s face when he sees the screen alight with his girlfriend’s smiling picture; he hadn’t heard from her much today, just a response to his good morning text before she left for class, and was hoping for a call. 

“Hey April,” Donnie greets cheerfully.

“Hey. Can you come over?”

There’s a hint of distress in her tone that has his smile drooping at the corners. “You’re home already?” One brow ridge raised, Donnie tucks the phone between his shoulder and ear, already starting to put away his tools. “I thought your lab didn’t let out ‘til 9 on Thursdays.”

“Professor cancelled at the last minute today... so, can you come?”

“Yeah, sure, I can be there in 20.” His voice softens with concern, “is everything okay?”

April pauses on the other end of the line. “...I’m not - sure, yet? Um, I’ll explain when you get here, I’d just - rather show you in person.”

_Show me what?_ His heartbeat picks up at the hesitancy in her voice and her careful word choices, and Donnie’s brain automatically begins flipping through the nerve-racking possibilities of what could have April so anxious, before he takes a breath and forces himself to stop. Cryptic and ominous as that answer was, he’ll have answers of his own soon enough.

Don shoves the phone back in his belt, then stands to secure a brown satchel across his chest. “Sorry, we’ll have to finish going through this another time. April needs me.”

Rockwell sighs in his signature superior way. “No need, I’m sure I can figure it out from here... it _is_ a bit of a critical priority, as you know.” The ape pauses, the corners of his eyes crinkling and a ghost of a smile twitching on his lips. “So, how _is_ that going, by the way?”

There’s no need for clarification - Don is well aware he’s asking about him and April. But there’s something about Rockwell’s tone that Donnie doesn’t like, his red-brown eyes narrowing behind the purple fabric. “Fine… it’s going fine.” 

Being a psychic, Dr. Rockwell picks up on Don’s curtness in a snap, and waves one long-fingered, simian hand dismissively through the air. “Now now, no need to raise those hackles, Donatello. I meant nothing by the question, truly, we all find it commendable you’re making a relationship with a human work.” 

Even if the doc didn’t mean that as a shot (he probably did), the 20-year-old turtle can’t stop himself from taking it as such. Seriously, he came all the way up to the Bronx to do the guy a favor, and this is how he gets repaid? What a dick. 

_Don’t take the bait,_ Donnie thinks, teeth grinding behind his lips. “Right. Well, it’s working _pre-tty_ darn well, so,” he shrugs his broad shoulders, “maybe you’re all just, overthinking it?” He can see Rockwell’s expression flatten as he swipes up his bo on his way out, allowing himself to feel the slightest bit smug as he sheathes it on his back in one sharp motion. “I’ll see you around, doc.” 

-

_Tap tap tap tap._

April leaps up from her spot on the bed where she’d been waiting, shoving open the window to reveal one towering, out of breath and anxious-looking turtle boyfriend, a sheen of sweat visible on his green speckled skin. 

“Hey,” he says, and it's easy to tell by his fidgeting hands that it’s taking a lot of effort for him to not bombard her with questions right off the bat.

April raises an eyebrow, stepping back to allow Donnie to climb through. “You didn’t sprint all the way here, did you?” 

“No, I took the Party Wagon… buuut I had to park her in an alley like, eleven blocks away. Then I sprinted.”

“Mm.” April pouts her lips in sympathy. “Sorry parking in my neighborhood sucks so bad.”

Don responds with a grin and a shrug, setting his satchel down on the floor and resting his bo against the side of her desk. “Ehh, it’s New York, parking sucks everywhere.” 

Letting the weak smile drop, Donnie takes a step closer to April, this time giving her a real onceover. She’s already traded in her contacts for a pair of black horn-rimmed glasses, and ditched her day clothes for PJ shorts and a faded old Science Olympiad sweatshirt. Her shoulder-length red hair is loose and way more frazzled-looking than usual. She seems... tired. And a little defeated.

Donnie reaches out to grasp her shoulders, completely dwarfing him within his hands, gazing down at her with serious eyes. “So, what’s wrong? You sounded worried on the phone.”

April’s head droops, before she halfheartedly lifts a hand to present him with her empty palm.

“ _This_ is what’s wrong.” April stretches the same hand towards her bookshelf, the concentrated expression she wears when she’s about to summon an object set on her face. The seconds tick by in silence, but nothing actually moves.

Donnie squints when still nothing happens, and April doesn’t provide an explanation. “Uhm. What are we looking at, here?”

“You’re _looking_ at nothing happening, _that’s_ what’s wrong,” April grinds out, with maybe more of an annoyed edge than necessary. Her outstretched arm limply drops back down to her side, and she deflates, staring down at her hands hopelessly. It’s hard for her to say the words. “Donnie, my powers… they aren’t _working_.”

Donatello blinks a few times, his mouth half open, words escaping him at first. April looks almost ashamed to have admitted it. “Oh,” he says finally.

“Yeah.”

“Okay. Okay, um -” Donnie taps a thoughtful hand to his chin, his brain diving headlong into ‘fix it’ mode, “so when did you first realize this was happening?” 

“I... I’m not sure, exactly. They were obviously working on patrol last night... I only noticed something was off when I got home from class. I mean, I can’t exactly use my powers when I’m out walking the street, ya know? But...” April trails off, her voice wrapped in a thinly-veiled layer of shock. 

_Oh, man,_ Donnie thinks. She’s way more shook up about this than she’s letting on. 

“Hmm. Have you felt like anything is off, or maybe do anything out of the ordinary from your daily routine?” He takes special care to keep his demeanor calm as he touches the back of his hand to April’s forehead, then to both of her cheeks. “Say, people you met, places you went, even food you ate… anything?”

April shakes her head resolutely. “No, nothing strange, nothing suspicious... just a completely normal day. Unless you count some guy being a gross creep on the subway, but, _oh wait_ ,” she throws up some sarcastic jazz hands, “that’s completely normal too.”

Donnie ignores the brief flare of anger in his chest at the thought of some jerk harassing his girl (even knowing full well she has no trouble taking care of herself). “Take me through your day, just in case.”

They sit down on the edge of her bed and April recounts the day’s activities in detail for him - class, library, tuna sandwich she had for lunch, video calling Dad, more library, more class - Donatello just nods along silently, looking pensive.

“Okay, how about physical symptoms? Aside from the loss of your powers, that is.” April just stares at him so he elaborates, gesturing around with his hands, “you know, any headaches, nausea… maybe even just a strong gut feeling about something?”

“No, not really…” her expression flickers, “oh, well. I… I guess my head has been feeling a little weird here and there, but it’s not-”

“Hang on, back up,” Donnie interrupts, “what do you mean, your head’s been feeling weird?” 

April can’t keep the guilty cringe from her face as she watches Donnie’s frown deepen, his eyes searching back and forth between hers. There may or may not be a reason she’s held off on admitting this part. “Well, I’ve kinda been having these - headaches lately. Like, a dulled down version of the ones I used to get... you know, around the time when I-I still wore the… yeah.” April finishes weakly, gesturing to the area near her collarbone, unable to look him in the eye anymore. 

Donnie’s jaw drops. “And you didn’t think that might be a _little_ relevant?!” His shrill voice cuts off and he drags a hand down his face, obviously trying to reign in his frustration. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to yell. How… how long have you been experiencing headaches.”

“Uh… few weeks, I guess...?”

“ _April_ , why wouldn’t you-”

“Okay before you tear into me, I promise they’re not that bad! They come and go really quickly, actually. Like, split second quickly. I figured, they’re just a lovely bonus to using psychic powers on a regular basis. Or something.” She balls her hands in her sweatshirt sleeves, shrugging pathetically. “Sometimes I barely even notice them.”

Daring to peek over at Don through her bangs, April’s heart drops at how upset he looks. The genius turtle notoriously gets very neurotic, _very_ fast when it comes to issues with her powers… understandably so. 

April gulps down her pride and reaches over to place her hand on top of his. “M’sorry. I should’ve said something, I know.”

His dark eyes flick over to hers, and she just does her best to stare back as sincerely as she can until Donnie’s hard, stiff posture starts to deflate, and he releases a heavy sigh. Turning his hand over, he loosely closes his three chunky fingers around her five small ones, a sign of a temporary truce over the subject. Luckily staying mad at her isn’t one of her boyfriend’s strong suits.

“Well... I guess we won’t know anything for sure until we getcha back to the lab, so we can test your powers and see what’s going on.” He tilts his head at her. “...Did you want to head there now?”

“Uhm... not particularly.” April’s apartment wasn’t as close to the lair anymore since she moved closer to campus, and to be honest she was beat.

“Yeah, fair enough. It’s going to take me some time to get the psychic neuro-transmitter back up and running, anyway.” He gives her hand a squeeze when she stays silent for too long. “...Hey. Whatcha thinkin’?”

“I don’t know… it’s just, this has never happened before, and...” April takes her hand back to touch two slim fingers to her forehead, her eyebrows knitting together. “I can tell that something is - is _off_ , but I can’t…”

She looks so lost, and Donnie feels the rest of his irritation melting away - she doesn’t need him guilting her right now, obviously she feels bad enough already. He can only bear to watch this for so long without going full mother-hen on her, his _comfort April!!!_ alarm bells blaring on full blast. He scoots in closer, wrapping his arms around her. “Hey, hey. We’ll get this figured out, I promise. Keep in mind that when it comes down to it, there’s still a lot we don’t know about the nature of your powers. For all we know, this could be something normal happening.”

“...And, if it’s not?” April mutters from her spot tucked underneath his chin.

“They’ll come back, April.” He strokes her upper arm reassuringly. “Listen, why don’t you come straight to the lair after class tomorrow? By then I’ll have the machine set up and ready to go.”

“Yeah... sounds good.” She’s only half paying attention, cornflower blue eyes now locked on the folded up tessen on the desk. Unable to help herself, she breaks out of their hug to reach out and try to summon it; she doesn’t give up so easily this time, concentrating so hard that color rushes into her freckled cheeks. 10 seconds pass, but her beloved war fan doesn’t move an inch. 

“ _Ugh_!” April bursts with a sound that’s almost a snarl, causing Donatello to flinch next to her. She glares at nothing, fidgeting where she sits. “Dammit. I can’t believe how _useless_ I feel without them.” 

“Hey, don’t say that,” Donnie instantly jumps to her defense, “of course you’re not useless.”

“I know, I know.” The redhead tugs a little too hard at a loose thread on her sleeve, struggling a little to regain her cool. “I just really, really _hate_ not knowing what’s going on.” 

“Yeah... I hear ya there.” Donnie fiddles with his own hands, trying to think of what to say. “...I’m sorry, April. Is there anything I can do?” 

April stops and thinks on that for a moment. The stress of the day she’s been holding in her body seems to suddenly register with her tense muscles. “…I guess I wouldn’t mind a back massage,” she admits, her eyes shifting back over to find Donnie already cracking his knuckles and wiggling his fingers. 

“One first class massage for April O’Neil, comin’ right up.”

April cracks a smile, one that disappears behind her sweatshirt when she peels it over her head. Donnie sits patiently while as takes her time tossing the hoodie to the floor and stretching in place, removing her glasses as an afterthought, folding them up and placing them on top of a stack of books on her nightstand. She flops down onto her galaxy-printed comforter, turning away on her side to snuggle down into a bit of a fetal position.

“Um, did you want to lay on your stomach?”

“Nah... this is fine,” April yawns, quickly becoming drowsy now that she’s lying down.

“You sure? For ideal spinal alignment you should actually be-”

“ _Donnie_.”

“Right, sorry.” There’s another second of stillness before she hears him shuffle up behind her on the bed, the mattress giving several loud squeaks of protest under his weight. He settles down on his side too, and then cool, calloused fingertips start to dig into the muscle tissue around her shoulder blade.

April makes a soft, grateful sound in her throat. This is one of those times it really pays to have a genius for a partner, she thinks as Don’s fingers work their magic, knowing exactly where to best tend to her sore muscles, and how to do it in a way that turns her limbs to jelly. Feeling cozy and cared for, she’s finally able to not think about her powers for 5 seconds. 

She’s only been enjoying her massage for a few minutes when the broad hand on her back casually segues into stroking her hip, then with one smooth motion, sneaks under her tank top to cradle a breast. April’s eyes blink back open, surprised and a little put out. _Really, man?_ He’s gonna try and ninja-stealth his way into copping a feel _now_ , when she’s feeling tired and down and the least amount of sexy one can probably feel? Great. Lovely.

She can’t _not_ say something. “What are you doing?” 

“Just, helping you relax,” Donnie says innocently, his breath hot against the back of her neck.

“Uh _huh_...” April rolls her eyes, pointedly ignoring the spike in her heartbeat. “You do know my back is on the _other_ side of me, right?”

“Ha, ha. Look, today obviously freaked you out... I wanna help you feel better,” he tries to explain himself, delicately squeezing one breast, then the other.

“You know what else helps people feel better? Massages,” April says flatly, but Don isn’t fazed by the comment.

“I can still give you one of those too,” he practically purrs, rolling a nipple around under his thumb. “But… maybe after an orgasm or two, first? Uh, for you, I mean,” he amends quickly, falling off his _smoooth-Donatello_ routine a bit.

April doesn’t answer right away, holding in a grumble. This feels nice and all, but she isn’t exactly in the mood to be “ravished” right now, the anxiety over her malfunctioning powers still at the forefront of her mind. But dammit, she doesn’t want to turn him down outright either, considering how rare it still is for him to be the one initiating. 

Bolstering up Donnie’s sexual confidence has been a looong, ongoing journey, she won’t lie. Her best-friend-turned-boyfriend has never quite been able to shake his hyper awareness of being a mutant turtle with mutant turtle body parts, and on top of that he’d spent a lifetime believing that no human was ever going to want him, being what he was… more specifically, that _she_ was never going to want him. Donnie had confessed as much to her a couple of months into their relationship, when a bad day had caused April to snap and confront him about why he seemed so reluctant to do anything at all with her (her heart still hurts just thinking about that raw, awkward conversation). The roots of his insecurities ran deep, and ripping them out of the ground one by one hasn’t exactly been easy. And when she reflects on all the progress they’ve made (wonderful, delectable, freakin’ awesome progress), April would _really_ prefer to avoid any potential backsliding. 

While she debates internally on how to play this, a warm, wet tongue meets the side of her neck, the hand on her breast kneading a bit more intently. April exhales heavily through her nose. 

“Dee... it’s kinda been a long day,” she starts, her words tentative. His hand falters a little, but to his credit, Donnie doesn’t immediately shy away, like he normally would if she expressed the teeniest, tiniest ounce of disinterest.

“I don’t know, April, sounds like a good ol’ fashioned surge of oxytocin and dopamine through your limbic system could be just what the doctor ordered…” Three fingers trickle in zig zags down her stomach and between her legs over her shorts, the touch feather light since he’s still in ‘permission mode.’ Man, he’s really not letting this go, huh. 

“Let me take care of you, sunflower,” he coaxes against her ear, kissing the lobe. “I’ll do all the work, you just close your eyes, and relax.”

Not having the heart to burst his bubble, April ends up taking the ‘what the hell why not’ route. 

“Oh, all right... guess it’s hard to argue with that... hmm…” April finds herself cooing as Donnie takes her permission and runs with it, his fingers slinking down the front of her loose fitting shorts and under the elastic of her underwear, his mouth happily going about laying a line of tender kisses along her neck.

She feels one bulky finger glide up and down her growing wetness a few times, stroking between her sensitive lips with the utmost care, before he brings his slicked-up finger back up to lightly circle her clit. April hums a soft moan, letting her eyes fall shut, a pleasant warmth kindling in her belly. Huh. Maybe she did need this more than she thought. 

“That’s it,” Donnie whispers encouragingly from behind her, nibbling at a spot just beneath her jaw. “Let’s get you feelin’ good, huh?”

April only nods, knowing he can feel it, her breath coming out heavier.

After a few minutes of his silent, adoring attention, she decides to bring it up. “ _You’ve_ been very frisky lately, I’ve noticed.” 

“Have I?” Donnie says, sounding dreamy and faraway.

“Yes, you have,” April laughs, the light giggles soon dissolving into a quiet gasp. It’s true, though. Now that she’s thinking about it, Donnie has initiated sex, like... an _unprecedented_ amount of times in the last week or so. It’s… uh, yeah, it’s been a pretty fun week, in that department. _And it all dates back to… oh._

April’s lips stretch into a sly grin. 

“It’s ‘cause of the roof sex, isn’t it.”

Donnie shakes with a jittery chuckle. “Wha-ha-hat? Whaddayou mean?”

“ _You_ know what I mean. Ever since we did it on the roof, you’ve been a total horndog - er, hornturtle?”

He snorts right in her ear. “Mm, not sure how I feel about ‘hornturtle’... and also, _shame_ on you O’Neil, these are completely unfounded accusations.”

“He says, with his hand down my pants.”

“Pff. Co- _incidence._ ”

April taps her chin. “Soo, yesterday in your lab, and the night before in your room, and 2 days before that at my place, _twice_ , and so on, and so forth… were those all coincidences, too?” She glances at him over her shoulder with raised eyebrows, struggling to keep a straight face when she sees the blank look on his. 

“Ha-ha, ahhh… well? When you put it that way, I guess that might be a, uh... a fair amount of coincidences.” Donnie swallows, and this time his fingers do go still between her legs. “So, am I hearing that you’d maybe, like me to tone it down a little bit?” He asks with a quieter, haha-we-have-fun-here-but-seriously-tell-me-if-I-should-back-off lilt. “Because I, I can totally-”

April takes hold of his stocky wrist before her stupid-cute, excessively considerate boyfriend can even _think_ of moving his hand, her thumb drawing reassuring circles on the wraps covering his skin. “Noo, you are _not_ hearing that - trust me, I’m into it.” On that note she gives her hips an insistent wiggle, grinding against his hand until he takes the hint and resumes his soft touches. “Mmm… I just want _you_ to admit that roof sex is what ‘released the kraken,’ s-so to speak."

“Okay, okay,” cue more flustered-Donnie chuckles, “I… you got me. But in my defense, getting to have you on that rooftop was by far… _by far_ the hottest thing I’ve ever done in my life, so. You can hardly blame me for having some, uh,” he clears his throat, “...residual feelings.” 

April can practically see the sheepish, gap toothed smile her turtle BF is most assuredly sporting, and the image makes her chest surge with a goofy giggle. She squirms a little as he continues to toy with her clit, sighing with pleasure. Yeah, she’s... _definitely_ more in the mood, now. And she’s also itching to hear Donnie make some of those noises that get her stomach fluttering with a very specific brand of butterflies; fortunately, she knows _just_ how to get that itch scratched.

“It was pretty hot, wasn’t it,” she murmurs, pressing the length of her body into his front, letting her fingers dance over the back of his busy hand. “You, fucking me up against that wall… so hard I had to bite my knuckles so I wouldn’t scream... _god_ you felt good...” April grins so hard she has to bite down on her lip when Donnie groans behind her, right on cue, and presses the bottom of his plastron into her ass, clearly reliving the exhilarating memory just like she is.

“Dangit woman, _why_ do you have to be so incredibly sexy, _all_ the time? So unfair, April.” Without warning he withdraws his hand from her waistband, bringing it around and tucking it between her thighs from behind, coaxing them a few inches apart - and then she’s gasping as a thick, dewy finger dives up the wide leg of her shorts, nudges past the sodden crotch of her panties and pushes inside her. He presses in slowly, deeper and deeper, until...

“Oh, god,” April sighs out, that full feeling suddenly catching up to her.

“ _Sunflower_ ,” Donnie whispers reverently, sliding his middle finger out and back in.

She can hear his breathing growing louder as he fingers her, a hair too gently in her opinion, leaving her hips squirming for more. Her own breath starts to come in shorter and shorter pants, her legs parting wider on their own to encourage him, one leg awkwardly hanging in the air before she grabs onto the back of her thigh for support. That increasingly pressing _moremoremore_ feeling wipes April’s brain clean aside from one thought and one thought only - a profound craving that rouses an embarrassingly hungry sound from her throat, makes her lean as far back as she possibly can into Donatello’s rock solid wall of a body, desperate to get closer. 

“Soo, about that massage you’d rather have,” Donnie jokes, and she can feel him grinning into her shoulder.

“Fuck a massage, I want your cock in me,” April growls breathlessly, “like, now.”

Her demand has Donnie instantly dropping the joking pretense, his erection sliding out from beneath his shell and a needy, shivery churr vibrating deep in his chest. The feel of his solid, heavy length pressing up between her cheeks makes her sopping wet, the muscles in her thighs twitching at the thought of all of _that_ soon being buried within her. On Don’s part, he can’t help but rock his hips against her, making them both gasp.

“You want me?” April’s tone is as challenging as it is soaked in arousal.

“Yes, please,” Donnie all but whimpers, punctuating the high-pitched words with some sloppy kisses to the crook of her neck.

“Then _hurry up,_ ” April breathes, feeling his finger draw out of her not a second later. 

Oh, it’s _on_ , now.

The cheap bed frame creaks ominously from Donnie sitting up so fast, and she can hear him shucking off his belt and pads in a rush as she kicks out of her shorts and underwear. She feels his hand taking hold of her shoulder as if to help ease her onto her back, to get her in position for their usual fare - but April resists and rolls away onto her stomach instead. Their eyes lock when she looks back at him, his confused, hers molten with want.

“Actually, I kinda want it,” April pushes through the twinge of bashfulness as she props herself up on all fours, giving him a playful smile from behind her shoulder, “...liiike you did on the roof?”

A slack-jawed Donnie lets slip an awed squeak before nodding his head with a “yes _ma’am_ ,” and he scrambles over to get situated behind her on his knees, his feet hanging off the end of her bed. A deep flush sears across both their faces, their hearts pounding with anticipation. 

Never one to skimp on foreplay, Donatello takes some time to let his hands roam over her backside appreciatively, bending to kiss each of the dimples on her back.Her wetness finally meets his when he teases the tip of his cock back and forth between her folds with one hand, just enough to make her sigh and sway back against him. He spends a tad too long trying to find the best angle to rub against her clit, though and April feels her patience wearing thin. This feels good too, but it’s not what she _needs_.

“Donnie, _fuck_ me,” she insists, pleased to hear him shudder and feel him twitch heavily between her legs.

“R-right,” Donnie stammers, “ah, uhm, on it.”

A jittery thrill rushes through her from head to toe when she feels him start to sink into her from behind, his hands engulfing her hips to hold her in place. Despite how wet she is, there’s still the usual burn once he reaches a certain point, barely a few inches in; considering his extraordinary size there’s probably no getting around that one, no matter how many times they do this. April bows her forehead to the pillow, her hair draping around her face like a curtain of fire, her fists balled up in the sheets. She clamps her teeth through the discomfort without a word, breathing evenly through her nose. It helps knowing there’s another mind-blowing, glorious side to all this once she gets past this part, and knowing that Donnie will be extra careful with her in the meantime, like he always is.

Even now, she can tell how attentive he’s being through his subdued, shallow motions; pushing in agonizingly slow, lingering, pulling out almost completely... repeat. He leans down to pepper her spine with more kisses, his vast palms lovingly smoothing up and down her sides.

“Okay?” Don’s hushed question breaks through the silence. “Let me know if I should slow down.”

April wants to laugh at that, not sure if it’s even possible for him to go any slower. “…I’m good,” she murmurs instead. 

Sighing contentedly, Donnie reaches out to comb his fingers through her hair, sweeping it all over one shoulder so that the path is clear for him to plant his lips on the knob at the top of her spine. He sneaks one hand around to graze a finger over her tiny bundle of nerves, simply increasing and decreasing the light pressure at first before stroking her with the faintest of circles, and April hums her gratitude, her body already starting to loosen up. She loves how he’s practically perfected the art of touching her, always so focused on getting it right every single time, exactly the way she wants it, ever since they started doing this. 

“That feels good,” April sighs out, knowing Donnie appreciates feedback. “Mm, keep going like that.”

“Y-you got it.” 

Things get quiet aside from the occasional gasp, the two of them simply breathing together as Don gently hits it from the back. His strokes are much longer and deeper now, and the burn has dulled down to no more than a forgettable ache, the increasing natural lubricant from both their bodies helping immensely. April shivers, her toes curling against the covers. She’s used to having a little more control than this, position-wise, but she’s gotta admit... the feeling of being taken is damn hot.

“Talk to me Dee,” April pants, tossing her hair back for him. Usually he needs encouragement to get going, but once he finds his groove... oh, she’s a big, big fan of Donnie’s voice when they’re like this.

His hands tighten around her hips as he sucks in a shuddering breath and licks his lips, and his reedy, trembling voice follows soon after. “A-April… oh April, my gorgeous sweet princess… god, you’re the best thing I’ve ever felt… best thing that's ever happened to me...”

April has to bite back a giggle - no matter how many times she vetoes ‘sweet princess,’ somehow it keeps popping back up. “ _More_ ,” she demands instead. 

Don takes her one word response as a go-ahead to start loving her with a little more vigor, his hands moving to grip her shoulders as his thrusts increase in speed. “ _Hah_... oh god the way you feel around me is - s’unreal, baby... so _tight_ , _s-sooo_ perfect, ohhman, h-huh, April you’re a goddess… mmm... can’t believe I get to be inside you…” 

That seems to do the trick, as April moans his name in response and melts down to her elbows, her head resting comfortably on her pillow. The talking fizzles out as Donnie focuses on keeping the rhythm interesting, the way he knows will drive her wild, alternating between pounding her into the mattress and long, drawn out strokes, feeling April quiver around him with mini orgasms every time he slows down. The glorious, magnificent feel of her aside, by Darwin, he could fall apart just from the _sight_ of her, her bright pink face half-smushed into her pillow, flaming red hair everywhere; the elegant lines and divots of her back, slicked with sweat and splashed with a stunning galaxy of freckles; the mouth-watering ripple of her ass every time his hips clap back against her-

Donnie forces his eyes shut, beads of sweat dripping down the side of his face as he struggles to maintain control of himself. It’s still too early for that. April’s got a big payoff building up inside her, and he has every intention of presenting it to her on a metaphorical silver platter. He crouches over her, bearing down on her until they’re both flat against the mattress, his weight resting on his elbows, head tucked next to hers, hips working furiously. 

“ _Yeeesss_ ,” April whines into her pillow, eyes slammed shut, teeth clenched, lost in a deep sea of pleasure, “fffuck meee…”

It feels about a million degrees in her room, the moans and grunts of satisfaction and the slick sounds of their lovemaking only serving to send them both further down into that heady, intimate space, where nothing exists but their racing hearts, the smell of sex and each other. April is _long_ past the point of even being aware of what a goddamned wreck she is, a puddle of drool starting to form on the pillow beneath her chin. She super Does Not Give A Shit, so long as Donnie’s cock keeps religiously hitting that spot he has yet again managed to find. 

“Don’tstop…! O-oh-- _yesyesyes_ \-- _nnah!!_ S-soofuckingclose… _hahhh, a-ah!”_ April squeals, her arms curling tightly around the pillow as her lithe body is rhythmically jostled forward with the power behind his thrusts, her muscles beginning to clench up. 

“ _Donnie_...! I-I’m - ohgod _please-_ ”

Donnie takes his cue at her sudden urgency and puts his mouth to her ear, his words throaty and just the right amount of desperate as he whispers, “That’s it sweetie, cum for me, cum all over my big cock, _come_ on baby, lemme feel you cum hard around me...”

He won’t stop repeating all the right words to her, won’t stop filling her so utterly and _completely_ , this person she loves soo freaking much, giving it to her as fast and hard as he can, always so ready and willing to give her _everything_ he’s got, _oh_ , god, the sound of his voice is _so_ \- 

_“F-fuck,_ April- ”

It’s that last, hoarse whisper of her name that does it. And hoo boy, come around him April _does_. The ripple effect from her orgasm has her whole body thrashing where she’s wedged in between Donnie and the mattress, an obscene wail streaming out of her mouth. She can’t stop shuddering, can’t stop clenching around him. Her eyes water, and she thinks she might actually be crying, the feeling is so devastating. 

Don is still ramming into her like his life depends on it when April gradually comes down from the intense physical high, leaving her body a quivering, hypersensitive mess. She knows he has to be almost there by the fragmented way he’s gasping and churring freely, his thrusts a little jerky and his rhythm a little off, his arms straining on either side of her. Suddenly exhausted beneath him, April isn’t up for drawing this out much longer. So she lets the magic words fly, with the most shamelessly x-rated delivery she can pull off - “oh god _yes_ baby, come inside me, Donnie please I need to feel it, give it to me- ”

“ _Ah!!_ Nnh _…_ haah…” Donnie stiffens and groans on top of her as she registers the telltale burst of warmth, and shortly after, a dripping sensation between her legs. April grins victoriously against her pillow.

Donnie continues to move with languid strokes during the time it takes him to float back down to earth, the charged, frantic energy in her bedroom lifting. She moans weakly at the much gentler stimulation, pulsing around him one last time. Neither of them speak when he finally goes still, the two of them panting together in a sweaty heap for almost a full minute. There’s really not much to say after what just happened, besides... hot fucking damn.

“...W-wow. My neighbors must hate me,” April breaks the silence, and the words hang in the air for a few seconds before Donnie starts giggling into her hair, April’s own snort of laughter quick to follow.

“Totally, freakin’ worth it. _Eat_ it, April’s neighbors,” Donnie huffs out, which only instigates more punchdrunk, nose-breathy chortling from both of them.

“So, is it just me,” April pants, once they’re able to calm down, “or are we getting, like... kinda good at this?”

“He-heh,” a dorky giggle is all the turtle can manage at first, a fresh wave of heat warming his cheeks as their verbal exchanges from before start to catch up with his shy, nerdy self. He nuzzles his beak down into her neck, plastron rhythmically pressing against her back as he finishes catching his breath. “Ah, nope, definitely not just you.”

“Like… I literally just cried a little, that was so good. I would high-eight you? But moving my arms feels like a lot right now,” April says, her voice muffled since her cheek is smooshed against her damp pillow. _Jeez, that’s a lot of drool. Ah well._

“That’s okay, thought that counts,” Donnie mumbles, sounding totally blissed-out. “Hmm... I suppose I should stop squishing you at some point, huh.”

“No, no. Take your time,” April flops a hand the best she can from where it’s jammed up against her chest. 

Donnie chuckles and leans around to peck her freckled cheek several times in a row, and then April finds herself facing a distinct flash of emptiness as he carefully eases out, rolling gracelessly onto his shell beside her. His head lolls toward hers on the pillow, one hand reaching out to brush the damp bangs out of her eyes. 

“There you are, my gorgeous sunflower,” he whispers, giving her a sleepy, ear-to-ear smile. He’s a kinda fuzzy around the edges since she’s not wearing her glasses, but the sight still makes insides do a joyful little flip.

“Hmm,” April hums contentedly, letting her eyes drift shut and returning the gesture. Admittedly, when Donnie had first deemed her his “sunflower” she’d thought it a bit ooey-gooey, never really having thought of herself as a syrupy-sweet pet name sort of girl. But it was way better than princess, and he’d given it to her during a pretty emotional moment the first time they’d made love, so, April had shut up and let him have it. And then it stuck… and now it’s kinda growing on her. Only Donnie could pull that one off.

Eyes still closed, she turns onto her side, running her fingers up the hard plates on his chest, past his collarbone and up his slender neck, finally coming to cup his rounded jaw. She feels him shift closer, his smooth, thin lips easing against hers a moment later, and gladly falls into an exchange of lazy, wet kisses in their afterglow. The slow, tender make out lasts until their lips start to tingle - they didn’t get to kiss at all during the actual sex, and both were feeling the innate need to remedy that. April finally leans away on their shared pillow, still nose-to-beak with him as her blue eyes open to meet his soft, adoring brown ones.

“Thanks for helping me relax,” She smirks, teasing a mask tail around her finger.

“Ah, anytime,” Donnie grins back, giving her a doofy wink that makes her snort. Then his expression drops dramatically, and he stares her down with wide chocolate eyes and raised brow ridges. “No, I’m serious. Day or night, anytime you wanna ‘relax,’ you call me.”

April rolls her eyes and flicks away his mask tail. “Duly noted, Mr. Hornturtle.”

Donnie groans, pulling a face, “come on April, I really hate hornturtle.”

“Well you brought back _‘sweet princess’_ during sex again, so I guess we’re even now.”

“H-hey that - that was an accident, it just slipped out!”

April pokes him in the chest. “ _That’s_ what you always say.”

“I really didn’t mean to-” Donnie tries to keep pouting, but April cuts him off with her lips, which shuts him up pretty much instantly.

“S’okay,” she whispers a few seconds later, pulling away from his mouth far enough to be able to drawl out, “I forgive you, _puddin’_.”

“Okay, now you’re just making fun of me.”

“Only a little bit,” she giggles, peppering kisses all over his face, which seems to make it up to him just fine.

She moves down to tuck her head under his chin, her chest deflating with a long, sated exhale. Donnie’s arms come around her, and for a while he just holds her in silence, cuddled up together on the rumpled sheets, listening to the faint bustle of the city 5 stories below.

“We should get cleaned up before we fall asleep…” Donnie says eventually, the suggestion preceded by a yawn. The seconds tick with no response from April. He raises his head off the pillow to look down at the silky red top of hers, trying to figure out if she’d already fallen asleep or not. “...April?” He tries softly.

“I’m awake,” she mumbles, catching him a little off guard. Don’s face falls at her somewhat vacant tone, a noticable difference from a few minutes ago when she’d been positively glowing.

He brushes the backs of his fingers up and down her arm, kisses the top of her head, and then dares to ask, “What’re you thinkin’ about?” 

April tilts her head up to his, revealing a weak, almost guilty-looking smile that doesn’t meet her eyes. “Oh, just… worst case scenarios, I guess.”

“Your powers?” Don asks, a little crestfallen, wishing their afterglow could’ve lasted a little longer.

She barely shrugs one shoulder, her finger tracing the lines around his scutes. “Yeah...” April drops her forehead against the top of his plastron, hiding behind her bangs. “...What if they don’t come back, though?” Comes her tiny whisper. Even saying the thought aloud makes her nervous, as if the question itself could jinx her.

“I really do think they’ll come back, April.”

“You don’t know that for sure,” she mumbles, face still pressed into his chest.

Donnie sighs. “...No, I guess I don’t.”  


At that she rolls off of him, sighing heavily and staring up at the ceiling. Don has to sit on his gut reaction, which is to pull her back into his arms.

“Listen…” Donnie starts hesitantly. “I truly don’t believe this will be the case, but, maybe we should worst case scenario this for a second. Y’know, just to get it out of the way. Say… say your powers don’t come back.”

April raises a doubtful eyebrow. “And this is supposed to help… how?”

“Just - hear me out. In this, a very much _theoretical_ scenario, your powers don’t come back, and you spend the rest of your life without them.”

“Is there a point to this?” April frowns over at him with wide, skeptical eyes. “Because you’re really, really freaking me out.”

“Sorry - I, I have a point, I promise. I’m just trying to say, your powers... they’re a part of you, I totally get that. And it would be a significant blow to lose them, but you… _you_ are _so_ much more than your powers, April.” Donnie reaches out, taking her hand and giving it a light squeeze. “It’s one of the things that’s so amazing about you. I mean, you possess this awesome, incredible _,_ mind blowing power… but it’s never defined you. You could get by fine without it. _Easily_. I have zero doubts about that.”

April stares at Donnie as if waiting for him to continue, so he does, the words coming easier now.

“And if you’re worrying about your place on the team... ah, don’t?” He laughs a little. “You’re a full blown _Kunoichi_ , April. As you very well know, that is _not_ an easy thing to do, it’s not even something most people _could_ do. But you did, April. In _two_ years! Like, that is insanely cool! We’ve all seen what you can do out there without using your powers… and I _know_ you don’t need psychic energy blasts to just, ah,” Donnie grins and clutches his chest as if overcome with emotion, “completely obliterate the bad guys, should they dare to cross your path. You beautifully bloodthirsty, deadly chinchilla, you.”

April chuckles at that, her lips quirking at the corners as she gives him a thump on the arm for ‘chinchilla.’

“You’re not afraid to work hard, despite having these advantages that most people would probably use to cruise through life,” Donnie goes on. “Your powers aren’t what got you your kickass GPA, or what got our family through some really tough times, and your powers _certainly_ aren’t what makes you the smartest, kindest, most take-no-shit person I know. That’s all you.” He smooths a lock of hair behind her ear, a big, proud smile taking over his face. “Worst case scenario, you would still have the same bright future ahead of you, and you would still have your friends, and a big, crazy family that loves you, and…”

“...And?” April prompts when he trails off, dearly wanting to hear whatever he’s about to say.

“And... of course I would still be right by your side, always, because you're my best friend, and - seriously, don’t know if I can stress this enough - I, am... _so_ , ridiculously, irrevocably in love with you, April O’Neil, and trust me when I say, that the feeling is not even the most _microscopic_ bit contingent on you having superpowers. O..okay?”

Donatello gives her a wobbly smile, his tooth gap peeking out at her - April makes a soft, overcome noise in her throat, her chest frothing over with a whole mess of emotions, before she leans in to kiss him, and then wraps an arm around his shell to hug him, and then hug him some more. She presses her whole self into him, into all the hard edges and sculpted planes of his body, a silent thank you for saying what she really needed to hear.

“I love you,” April whispers, “so freaking much, Donnie.”

Her fingers blindly reach for the knot of purple fabric at the back of his head, managing to loosen it one-handed, enough so that she can ease the mask up his forehead and place a soft kiss between his eyes. She pulls back to find a blushy, goofy look on Donnie’s face, the touch of shy sweetness about it making April want to giggle, because not half an hour ago they were having really loud sex and now somehow they’re here. 

She props herself up on an elbow, feeling kind of achy between the legs and still a little worried about tomorrow, but mostly grateful and so, so lucky. Laughter laces her voice as she gives his olive cheek a few affectionate pats. “Come on, puddin’. Let’s go shower.”

Predictably, Donnie breaks out with the wide, eager smile she’s come to rely on.

**Author's Note:**

> Yeahh I?? I hope this read okay. Even though it doesn't really fit with the rest of the story, I wanted to keep the weird-guy-watching-them part in there. I just thought the juxtaposition between a judgmental stranger's POV on Donnie and April being together vs Donnie and April's POV on being together was kinda neat. Er maybe neat isn't the right word. Intriguing, I guess. And a little depressing. come on, they're in love and they were just feeling a little horny & adventurous, leave them alone mysterious roof guy. damn.
> 
> If I ever one day feel up to writing more of this story I'll post it here, but for now I'm mentally markin this baby finished.
> 
> Please leave me a comment if you're up to it, I live breathe and die for praise and/or feedback! Thanks for reading! Apritello fa lyfe, peace


End file.
